


A Pocketful of Stars

by yozra



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: A touch of sweetness, Confessions, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Winter Romance, stars stars stars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-05
Updated: 2019-12-05
Packaged: 2021-02-25 04:35:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21670036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yozra/pseuds/yozra
Summary: Akaashi never intended for a quick solution to become a long-term project. He also never intended for anyone to find out about it, least of all Bokuto.
Relationships: Bokuto Koutarou/Akaashi Keiji
Comments: 19
Kudos: 190





	A Pocketful of Stars

“What’s that?”  
  
Akaashi looked up from his textbook and followed Bokuto’s finger pointing at his desk, likely at the jar than the pen stand.  
  
He shifted slightly, feet tingling from sitting cross-legged for so long, and returned to his reading. “A project of sorts.”  
  
“What project?”  
  
Of course Bokuto wouldn’t let it go. Akaashi spoke at the book, hoping his study partner would take the hint. “There are many variations – I chose to have each star represent a joyful or fortunate occurrence.”  
  
“What happens when it’s full?”  
  
“A wish will be placed upon the final star, and the jar will be sealed.”  
  
“And then?”  
  
“It commonly becomes a decoration. However, as it’s only a project to sate my curiosity, I’ll likely store it away.”  
  
“...It’s like you’re gonna bury it.”  
  
A vague hum of interest escaped him. “That wouldn’t be such a bad idea.”  
  
“Doesn’t sound like that’ll make the wish come true,” Bokuto grumbled.  
  
_It’s not one that can come true_ , Akaashi thought.  
  
Silence blanketed them, making Akaashi believe Bokuto resumed studying. He did the same, rereading the sentence for the fifth time—  
  
“Can I have it when you’re done?”  
  
Akaashi glanced up – a mistake. Bokuto’s smile was one he wore when facing a challenge, his eyes intent with an assertion that he would accept only one answer.  
  
Akaashi lowered his hands to his lap and started rubbing his right. “Why?” he stubbornly asked, refusing to give in to expectations.  
  
“Because it’s pretty.”  
  
Akaashi wondered why he presumed he would receive a sophisticated answer.  
  
“I don’t know—”  
  
“If you’re gonna bury it, you don’t need it, so you might as well give it to someone who wants it. Right?”  
  
Another infallible, logical counterargument.  
  
“I suppose then… if you don’t open it…”  
  
“I won’t, I promise! Just let me know when it’s done!”  
  
Watching Bokuto return to his textbook with a happy hum, Akaashi knew that after he left, another star would join the pile.  
  
  
  
  
  
Not long after the school year started, a trend quietly coursed through the first and second years – lucky paper stars.   
  
Although Akaashi initially took no interest, he grew curious as to how one was made, so one evening he decided to make an attempt – but not before remembering their purpose. After some deliberation he decided his would represent happiness, and he reflected upon his day.  
  
Immediately Bokuto popped to mind, peering over his shoulder while Akaashi wrote out the day’s club activities and commenting on his neat handwriting. The compliment made Akaashi feel pleasantly warm, which turned into intensely warm at feeling Bokuto’s breath brush his ear and his body press against his back.  
  
Akaashi scrawled: _Bokuto-san_.  
  
He tied a knot and began folding away his embarrassment, around and over each side until he was tucking in the end and holding a pentagon; he gently squeezed the edges until it puffed out into a star.  
  
He dropped it into the jar and admired his handiwork.  
  
A single fallen star, alone, trapped, at the bottom of a pit, as dejected-looking as the one that hid under a table after a particularly miserable match.  
  
That was not his image of ‘Bokuto-san’ at all.  
  
The next day, he bought some patterned washi paper, cut them into strips, and stored them ready in his bag. The day after, he returned to his desk, pulling out from his blazer pocket the three stars he had been carrying around. They slipped through his fingers, tumbling – then settling – into their new home.  
  
The first star no longer looked so lonely.  
  
Most days he made two or three. On an off-day he made one, too busy contriving ways to make Bokuto’s dwindling glow shine again. His record was five after an exceptional match had Bokuto ecstatic over his performance and everyone else’s, and receiving high praise from their coach and managers.  
  
Akaashi glanced up from his homework – the jar was a layer away from completion and his project was coming to a close.  
  
Recently, with every look, dread gnawed at his insides. Because though he could never see himself running out of things to record, he had resolved that on the day he collected the final star he would permanently screw the lid shut, sealing within it the quietly growing emotion he had been harbouring for most of his high school career.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
A week later, on the night before the last day of term, Akaashi sent a message.  
  
_I’ll be bringing it tomorrow._  
  
A minute later, he opened its reply.  
  
_Day after tomorrow Hachiko 18:00! Bring it then!_  
  
  
  
  
  
Since their meeting coincided with rush hour, Akaashi had been prepared to face the crowds – currently shuffling inside one to exit the station – but he had forgotten he would also have to wade through the discord, clashing commercials and tinny tunes bouncing between his ears against the shrill mix of yells and squeals; his tense nerves grew hot, became twisted and squeezed and dangerously close to snapping—  
  
But then he spotted Bokuto.  
  
And Akaashi stopped.  
  
Bokuto was already there waiting. He was never early to anything, not even team dinners involving yakiniku, always the last to stumble in, spouting excuses for his tardiness.  
  
No, that was incorrect. He was only ever early for one – volleyball.  
  
Akaashi shook his head. Perhaps he had had a previous engagement – it would explain why he had chosen a location away from the proximity of their high school. Akaashi resumed his approach.  
  
“Good evening, Bokuto-san.”  
  
Bokuto turned, his beaming smile appearing particularly bright. Strange, considering it was nighttime and their faces were like ghosts under the artificial lights.  
  
“Akaashi, you’re here – and on time too!”  
  
“I think you should be directing that at yourself,” Akaashi said with a quirk of an eyebrow.  
  
“I’m always on time when it matters!” Akaashi was about to dwell on this when Bokuto grabbed his arm and tugged him towards the crossing. “This way! We’ve got to get there before more people come!”  
  
“Get where?”  
  
“It’s a surprise!”  
  
Akaashi had no choice but to follow Bokuto, who chattered away about the excitement of their winter break and New Year’s and of course the upcoming tournament, not once mentioning the jar currently tucked away in Akaashi’s bag, bundled in a scarf for additional cushioning.  
  
As they veered away from the main road, Akaashi noticed the trees were lit up with blue fairy lights. It reminded him he hadn’t gone out of his way to view winter illuminations the last couple of years, mainly because he had no one to go with; displays were to be seen with family or friends, or – more specifically – a partner. It took courage (one Akaashi didn’t have) to go alone.  
  
Akaashi mentally shook off the sombre thought and turned his ear back to—  
  
Quiet.  
  
With this quiet the surrounding air had also become weighted with emotions Akaashi couldn’t quite place – like his jar, except his jar was jam-packed with hope and fondness and admiration, so much so that he should have been more concerned about the glass cracking from within.  
  
He flicked a side-glance; Bokuto was in a rare moment of calm, his smile lost but not to sorrow, appearing... contemplatively resolute. Akaashi sensed he shouldn’t be disturbed, so he turned his attention to the path ahead, to the glittering lights that looked like guides to—  
  
Yoyogi park came into sight and so did its allée, trees adorned with speckled white lights budding from between the bark and enshrouding the area in a mysterious haze which smudged into the darkness, dyeing it ultramarine.  
  
Akaashi slowed his steps—  
  
Bokuto marched onwards, crossing the road as the green man flashed; Akaashi had no choice but to hurry after him.  
  
Surely Bokuto hadn’t asked him here for this?  
  
They wandered onto the glossy pathway rippling with every step taken under the reflected glow. Akaashi looked up at the branches overhead, no longer wood wrapped in wires but bioluminescent feelers, spreading, stretching, searching – for another’s touch, a connection.  
  
He lowered his gaze again, finding Bokuto leading them off track, slowing to a halt behind one of the trees; Akaashi followed suit.  
  
“Hey, Akaashi.” Bokuto turned. “Can I have it now?”  
  
Hesitantly, Akaashi complied, drawing ‘it’ out, handing over stars now floating underwater.  
  
Bokuto brought the jar close, peering inside. “Do you know what they call this light up?”  
  
“I don’t.”  
  
“The blue cavern.” Bokuto looked up, grinning. “So you did end up burying it.”  
  
Akaashi snorted softly – that was rather clever. “Does that mean you’ll hide it somewhere, buried?”  
  
“I can’t do that when it’s got my name on it.”  
  
A chill shot through him, freezing him to the spot.  
  
“What... did you say...?”  
  
Bokuto reached into his pocket then held out his hand – nestled in his palm were three stars.  
  
Three _missing_ stars. Akaashi had been in the school library, folding them while taking a break when Bokuto appeared to tell him coach was calling, making him scramble for his belongings – which was when he must have dropped them because that night he found them gone.  
  
Before Akaashi could form an excuse, Bokuto was digging into his own bag, pulling out something – a jar, size similar to Akaashi’s and within it—  
  
“What’s that?” Akaashi asked, afraid to guess its contents.  
  
“I didn’t want to be the only one getting a present.” Bokuto pushed the jar closer to him. “It’s for you.”  
  
Akaashi reached, slowly, hands trembling, pressing his fingertips onto the cold glass container filled with stars – a little bigger, misshapen, squashed in, and a few unravelling to reveal words written in Bokuto’s big scribbles.  
  
“I put a wish on the last star too – guess what it says!”  
  
Akaashi looked up. “Bokuto-san—”  
  
“Wrong!” Bokuto laughed, pitch hitched and shaky. “Try again!”  
  
Bokuto wouldn’t free him unless he did, so Akaashi took a deep breath. “‘I wish…’”  
  
But he couldn’t bring himself to finish that sentence.   
  
At least, not until he saw Bokuto lean in, hugging onto Akaashi’s jar – and words – like his life depended upon it.  
  
Akaashi tried again. “‘I wish... Akaashi would...’” He momentarily prepared himself, to thrust his whole heart and faith into his snagging words. “‘Get. That I… li—’ no – ‘ _really_ … like... him. Too...’?”  
  
“How did you know?!”  
  
“It was a guess.”  
  
“It was word for word!”  
  
“Then it was a lucky guess.”  
  
“So…”  
  
Bokuto took a step forward, peering into Akaashi’s face, his deep-blue smile transparent.  
  
“...Do you?”  
  
  
  
  
  
Ten minutes later, they left the blue-cavern realm and returned to the dark, worldly park grounds.  
  
“Akaashi – what did you wish for?”  
  
Akaashi pushed his hand – and Bokuto’s, their fingers still laced – into his coat pocket, which fitted snugly warm inside.  
  
“...Akaashi?”  
  
“It doesn’t matter, Bokuto-san. It came true.”  
  
Bokuto squeezed his hand; smiling, Akaashi squeezed back.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
_I wish I could keep this star in my pocket to be called mine._


End file.
